


Rising from the Rubble

by Balmyfables



Series: Rock Hard Romance Novellas [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Humor, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, steamy romance novel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 19:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18580849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balmyfables/pseuds/Balmyfables
Summary: Our not-so-friendly sculptor gets down in the ruins, and begins rebuilding.Part 2 of this Steamy Romance Novella series follows the misadventures of a sculptress, trying to carve her place in the war against the Burning Legion. It explores the boundaries between what makes a Champion and what makes and NPC, blatantly conflates game mechanics and universe conventions, and is chalk full of metaphors about stones.Famous NPCs sometimes make appearances, and it is inspired by the wonderfully raunchy items in World of Warcraft: Steamy Romance Novels https://wow.gamepedia.com/A_Steamy_Romance_Novel.





	Rising from the Rubble

Ataka staggered from the battlefield to the camp. Her hammer was slippery with fel green blood. Dozens of new wounds covered her verdant skin. The sun set cast a blood red light over the field of demon bodies, and it was the most romantic thing Ataka had ever seen.

Illidari Stand was quiet, only a few demon hunters murmuring to each other. Ataka gathered that the camp took demon fighting in shifts, and the demon hunters piled into the inn when their fel infused bodies needed rest (which wasn’t often).

Ataka thought about hearthstoning to her home, warm and cozy and so empty of people.

She dragged herself to the makeshift inn.

The inn was housed in a barely-restored ruins with the roof blown out. It was a sorry affair, and Ataka tried not to look too closely at the scarred, pock-marked masonry. Instead, she eyed the rudy, heavily bandaged Innkeeper standing at the door, sharpening his war blades. He was no less damaged than the stonework, his ribs wrapped in a bloody bandage, but he was infinitely more pleasing.

She wondered if Belath Dawnblade’s face was ugly, or perhaps heavily scarred, because he hid it so completely. Most demon hunters hid their fel eyes, but with the steel mask above and a red sash below all she could see of Belath’s face was the tip of his nose. Demon hunters had a weird fashion sense-- she could understand covering the scars of their lost eyes. It was more a mark of respect for their interlocutor, for they couldn’t see their own eyes-- but they did have to deal with people cringing whenever they saw their scorched eye sockets. Perhaps it also helped their comrades, hiding at least reminder of their pain from each other. But then a lot of them lost their modesty, baring their torsos and the runic tattoos. Belath’s upper chest was bare--and gloriously muscled. And then his hips and thighs were hidden in thick skirts. Such a shame.

Ataka wanted to rip away the red scarf over his mouth and chin to see if he even had lips.

Definitely not to see if the lips below were kissable.

She settled on her normal mode of introducing herself to someone-- poking him on the shoulder.

“Ah, you have a death wish,” he growled, turning his veiled but not sightless face towards her.

“Is that a dagger in your skirts, or are you happy to see me?” she replied with a smirk.

Belath snarled. “These are warglaives, I’ll have you know.”

She raised her eyebrows skeptically, not so used to her flirtations failing so miserably. “Where?” she asked simply.

“Augh, how original,” he grumbled, pointing his chin towards his blades, which were leaning by the inn door. “I do not suffer taunts about the size of my blades lightly. If you make sport of teasing blood elves, leave.”

“I need a bed in the inn,” she replied with a shrug.

“Then take any bed you like,” he said, motioning inside the ruins. The place was a wreck, shards from the shattered stained glass dome above still laying on the floor, leaves everywhere. Even high and mighty demon hunters could stoop to sweeping a little, Ataka thought with a twinge of disgust. But Illidari, in various stages of consciousness, lay sprawled across the blankets and pillows spread across the ground, uncaring for the mess or the noise of battle that still waged right outside the inn. Their limbs were a patchwork of color, their bodies pressed close together.

Ataka tore her eyes from the entangled forms, shifting her hips to relieve pressure there. “There are no free beds,” she growled.

His laugh was a deep basso that vibrated through Ataka’s core. “Those who fight together, sleep together,” the demon hunter replied, smirking. “We have no need for propriety. If that unsettles you, you may take a bat to Dalaran, or find a particularly comfortable tree root.”

Ataka hesitated, looking at the demon hunter’s massive hands. And bare pectorals. And belt pouch.

She wouldn’t mind his tree root, she thought.

Ataka gripped the base of her hammer tightly. “I am not intimidated by a few Illidari,” she responded, voice shaking a little.

“Oh, but you should be,” he crooned, stroking his blades.

Okay, he definitely was flirting back.

They were silent for a moment, and Ataka found she had a hard time being intimidated by a man in a skirt.

And by a hard time, Ataka was suddenly very glad she was female.

“If there isn’t enough room inside, you could sleep here,” the innkeeper offered, patting the ground next to him. She didn’t need to see his eyes to tell he was leering.

Oh shit, Ataka thought, watching his big hands work up and down his blade. According to every rumor and story Ataka had ever heard, demon hunters were intense folk in every aspect of their lives. Ataka wasn’t ready for that kind of kink. Gotta get away.

“I will find a spot. Thanks,” she said, and beat a quick retreat into the inn honor be damned.

She felt slightly ashamed as she climbed the dusty stairs to the second story of the ruins, hoping that the loft would be a little less populated (and definitely not because it was farther from Belath’s gaze) and found a bed roll as devoid of glowing green limbs as she could. She settled down and tried to get comfortable.

It was not comfortable.

It had been ages since Ataka had gone adventuring, but her pride wouldn’t let her back out now just because she wasn’t on a proper bed. Ataka shimmied her hips down, hoping that the stone would stop digging into her back lower on the pad. Beside her, a blood elf moaned lightly, stretching her lithe body and blinking startling green eyes.

Ataka thought all demon hunters had cut out their eyes? All blood elves had glowing eyes, but this lady seemed to have eyes of fel fire, and didn’t wear a blindfold, only long white bangs that fell over her forehead.

“Sorry,” Ataka whispered, scooting a little further away from the demon hunter.

The elf lifted the corner of her mouth in a nearly mocking smile, but somehow Ataka didn’t feel that this was condescending. “Don’t worry. You can scoot closer if you want to.”

“Eh?”

“Your shoulders look comfortable,” she murmured, her fiery green eyes roving down Ataka’s body and her voice sounding like a purr.

...were all demon hunters horny all the time?

Ataka let her eyes run over this demon hunter, and did not feel guilty at all about ditching Belath. This demon hunter was all lithe muscles and badassery. She had fel fire cracking through her skin, making crags and fissures of her cheeks, but she rocked it like a queen. Just like she did the spiralling demon horns that sprouted from her forehead and the massive purple scythe lying propped against the wall behind her.

Ataka flexed just a little bit. “Does the fierce demon hunter want a bit of a snuggle?”

The blood elf lowered her eyelashes coyly, scooting her thin hips closer, running her fingertips lightly along her belly. “Perhaps more of a romp.”

Ataka definitely felt a twinge in her nethers as she scooted closer, thinking simultaneously about how much she didn’t want to keep quiet and how different demon hunters were from other elves. They were so much more rugged and fierce, they laughed more easily and just seemed… well, more honest.

“Come here,” the blood elf crooned, hooking a finger at Ataka seductively.

Ataka came, eager as a hungry puppy. Her large hand slid down the elf’s belly, which was all muscle and scars and twitched under Ataka’s fingers. The demon hunter smirked and leaned forward, grazing her own agile fingers over Ataka’s hip, claws working their way under Ataka’s layers. Ataka took the hint, and started worming her way under the demon hunter’s belt, loin cloth, and pants.

Why did the demon hunter need many layers, anyway? She was nearly naked on top, just a strappy bikini and a girdle-like belt that Ataka made quick work of. Ataka popped one of the elf’s small breasts out of her top and licked a nipple.

“Ahh,” the elf moaned appreciatively, bucking her hips up against Ataka’s hand. The demon hunter twisted her neck to nibble Ataka’s ear, the sharp little fangs tingling and pricking Ataka’s skin. Ataka gasped, and felt the nipple stiffen under her mouth in return. She gently ran her tusks along the rigid flesh, pleased by the little moans it pushed from the elf’s lips, and continued working her hand deeper into the elf’s clothes. She could feel the scratchiness of pubic hair on her fingertips--not much further.

“Damn your belts,” the demon hunter hissed against Ataka’s ear, and she began tugging at Ataka’s belt in earnest, shucking the shaman’s layers. Ataka smirked, shoving her hand down the elf’s pants. Her finger slipped on sudden wetness, and Ataka’s grin widened at how she stuttered and jerked. Ataka wanted to see how much she could mess her up, to witness how pretty she was when she came undone.

“Let’s blow this joint,” Ataka whispered into her ear, nibbling a little bit at the lobe.

“Why?” the blood elf asked.

Why? Ataka stared at her. What if we disturb the others? Does this chick want to wake them all up?

Ataka’s stomach dropped out when she remembered the innkeeper’s words-- demon hunters had no need for propriety. She wondered if the fact that she wasn’t a demon hunter meant she was exempt from this philanthropy…

...or if she was prey.

Then she wondered how many of the demon hunters sprawled around them would join in. Her pulse beat faster in her ears.

“Aww, is the little orc embarrassed?” the elf crooned, grinning wickedly. “How adorable.”

“Shut up,” Ataka snarled, and yanked the elf’s pants down.

“Ah. The orc has something to prove,” the elf gasped when Ataka’s finger breached her. Ataka grinned as the elf clamped around her digit, but was distracted from her vengeance by the way the woman chewed delicately on her lower lip, fangs teasing the flesh, long eyebrows pushing together in a delicious expression of pleasure. Ataka devoted herself to the effort of making the blood elf gasp more. 

“Ohhh, yesssss…” the blood elf hissed as Ataka worked a second finger into her, breaths came fast and shallow.

“You like it?” Ataka growled, pleased and pumping her fingers in faster.

The blood elf nodded frantically, mouth falling open and her eyes rolling back.

“You’re so hot,” Ataka purred in wonderment, working a third finger into the furnace that was the elf’s pussy. She imagined the elf’s core burning with fel fire, and her own demon-tinged blood resonating in the vicious pleasure.

“Faster,” the elf gasped, clutching Ataka’s biceps, and the orc obeyed. The elf rode her hand so viciously Ataka worried briefly that she would dislocate her knuckles, but in a few more strokes the elf kicked out, biting her shoulder to muffle her cry as she climaxed. Ataka grinned as the elf clamped around her fingers, aftershocks of orgasm rolling through her.

“I...I didn’t get to you,” the blood elf panted when she had come down from her climax enough to piece two thoughts together. The fact that her first thought was an apology made Ataka’s chest twinge.

“That’s okay,” Ataka said, glancing meaningfully at the two-inch long talons that adored each of the blood elf’s fingers.

“Oh, don’t be intimidated by these,” the demon hunter said, grinning like a cat and flexing her claws. “My tongue doesn’t have claws.” She pushed Ataka’s torso back onto the pallet and lowering herself to the shaman’s thighs.

The shaman’s eyes went wide.

“Wait,” she breathed, and pawed frantically through her bags. Finding what she wanted, she turned to the demon hunter in triumph.

She brandished a beautifully carved dildo.

The demon hunter’s eyes went wide as she took the stone in her palm, eying the craftsmanship.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, turning wide green eyes towards Ataka.

“I made it,” Ataka replied smugly.

The elf’s eyes got even wider. “Can you make me one?” she asked.

Ataka didn’t bother to hold back her laugh. “Depends on how well you wield it,” she responded with a wink, lifting her knee meaningfully.

The demon hunter’s cheshire grin was terrifying, and she pounced on the orc.

Ataka had been aroused for hours, if she was honest with herself (and she absolutely wasn’t), but she still wasn’t prepared for the demon hunter’s joyous assault on her pussy. She grabbed the nearest soft thing-- her crumpled up shirt-- and screamed into it as the elf brought her to orgasm in about six quick strokes.

And then Ataka came again. And again. And again.

She barely had time to catch her breath between orgasms. The demon hunter was obviously practiced at this, sucking on the orc’s clit and angling the dildo so that it hit Ataka just so .

The shaman was cross-eyed and delirious as she slowly came to, surprised to see the demon hunter sitting atop her, pinning her arms down with her shins and her legs down with her forearms, her hands slowly pulsing the stone phallus in Ataka’s clenching pussy.

“How many times did you just come?” the elf asked smugly, grinning at Ataka.

“Shut up. It’s been years.”

The blood elf’s features sharpened. “You need to come back to Illidari Stand. We’ll take care of you.”

Oh shit. Ataka glanced around, but the people who had been sleeping when she started her tryst with this demon hunter were still passed out, evidently an orc cumming her brains out of no more of note than the shrieks and explosions of demonic battle outside.

Satisfied no-one else was going to pounce on her, Ataka felt exhaustion settling over her. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Allari,” the elf whispered, snuggling into Ataka’s side.

“Will we see each other again?” Ataka asked, pulling the elf tighter.

“If ever you need me, follow the demons. I’ll be hunting.”

Ataka smiled as exhaustion claimed her. She slept better than she had in years.


End file.
